Trust
by Hollywithaneye
Summary: A bit of Amell/Alistair fluff, set immediately post-Connor Fade. For the ladies and gents of swooping is bad.


_For swooping_is_bad's weekly challenge, option 1. A bit of Amell/Alistair fluff immediately post-Fade. And if Alistair ends this scene a bit out of character...well, he's mine to play with, right?...Right?_

It was strange.

She could have sworn she'd left the Fade already. So then why was she floating along, feeling so detached from her body still? Threnody laid quietly, her eyes still closed. She was afraid of what she would see if she opened them again. Was she out? Or still lost in those misty passages, still searching for things? The longer she had stayed the more difficult things had become to remember, and she thought of Niall with a shudder.

Consciousness slammed into her like a bolt of her own lightening, and she was painfully aware of her body. It was all crumpled up, and cold. Her head lolled from side to side, and her right cheek was being rhythmically smashed against something hard. Sharp ridges dug into her shoulders and the back of her thighs. This more than anything convinced her she was back from the Fade, the feeling of being rooted in her body again. Physical sensation. She struggled to lift leaden eyelids, to speak, and the panic rising in her throat sent her limbs thrashing wildly.

"Whoa! Hold up there…are you trying to get dropped?"

The voice cut through the last strands of the Fade that webbed her mind, and Threnody slowly cracked her eyes open. She was blinded by the glare of torchlight on polished metal and realized with a start that she was being carried through the halls of Redcliffe by Alistair

"Glad to see you're finally awake. Land of the living, meet Threnody. Threnody, may I present the land of the living?" His chuckle rumbled strangely where her ear was pressed against his breastplate. He turned the corner into a small bedchamber, and Threnody was forced to close her eyes against the dizzying sight of ceiling beams ticking by overhead. Nausea clawed at her belly and she struggled against Alistair's tight grip.

"Careful! If you wore proper armor instead of those ridiculous mage robes you wouldn't be so blasted slippery. Hold up woman!"

Threnody freed herself from the Warden's grip and stumbled, half falling into the room in the general direction of the closest chamber pot, and promptly lost what little breakfast she had eaten that morning.

"Oh. I see. Er, yes…glad you didn't do that a bit earlier. You should have said something." Alistair mumbled, his hands fluttering awkwardly. Was he supposed to do something here? Hold her hair? Rub her back? He settled for turning around and pointedly ignoring the wretched sounds she was making.

"Sorry." She whispered finally after a few minutes had passed, pushing the soiled pot away before sitting back on her knees and smoothing her hair with shaking fingers. Alistair shifted his stance uncomfortably and offered her a hand up. "That's never happened before."

"No need to apologize to me. How many times have you done that, exactly?" Alistair led her towards the waiting bed, sitting her on the edge and plunking down alongside her.

Threnody blinked owlishly up at him. "Entered the Fade?"

He nodded.

"Well, I guess just the time at the Circle, with the sloth demon," she replied, and lifted one hand to rub at her pounding head. "And when I completed my Harrowing, shortly before I left the Circle with Duncan. Hardly grounds for drawing comparisons, I suppose." She looked around the empty room. "Where are the others?"

"They're still in the Hall, hashing out a course of action to help the Arl. Connor is fine, but the Arl is still caught in his illness. I asked to take you somewhere you could rest for a bit." He drew his hands into his lap, armor clanking softly with the motion. "I've…told you about the time I took part in a Harrowing, haven't I?"

Threnody stopped rubbing her head and peered at him through her fingers. "Yes, and about the consequences."

"Mmm." He grunted noncommittally, and leaned back on his hands in silence. Threnody resumed the head rubbing, trying to remember the breathing exercises her tutors had instructed to help with the aftermath of the Fade.

"I'm sorry."

Startled from her meditations, Threnody glanced over at Alistair. A frown crumpled his forehead and he turned to face her. "I shouldn't have asked you to enter the Fade. I mean, I am truly glad that no one had to die for us to solve this problem. But still…I didn't think through exactly how dangerous it might be for you too. Of all our other companions here, I alone knew the extent of that danger."

She shrugged. "There's always a risk when you enter the Fade. I was willing to accept that, Alistair."

'Yes but…still…" He shot up from his seat and restlessly paced the small rug beside the bed, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. Abruptly he knelt before her, snatching a hand in his armored grip and staring up at her with an intensity that seared her lungs. "I thought you were dead. I mean…I knew you weren't. You were just in the Fade. But you were lying there on the floor of the Hall, so crumpled and grey and empty. I thought, perhaps…you had gotten lost." His hand tightened reflexively, nearly crushing her fingers. "Or worse. What if you had come back…wrong? I don't think I could have found the strength to do what a Templar should." He dropped his forehead onto the back her hand, the soft brown strands of his hair lightly prickling her skin and she could feel his breath blow hot on her fingertips.

Slowly Threnody pulled her hand away. "I wouldn't have done it if you had not been there."

He lifted his head, a stricken expression on his face and his throat worked. "Maker, I'm sorry for putting you through that."

"No, no. What I meant was…I trusted you Alistair." Tentatively, she reached out her fingers to brush the light stubble on his cheek. "If I hadn't know that you were there, willing to do the right thing in case I did come back 'wrong', I don't think I could have gone in. I know you might doubt that you would have been able to perform the Templar duty, but I have faith that you would have done the right thing." She cocked her head and smiled down at him. "So, in a way I should be thanking you, for letting me borrow a bit of your strength. And letting me rely on you."

"It is…my priveledge." He replied softly, searching her eyes. Threnody felt her face flush warmly beneath his regard. Just as she was about to say something, anything to break the thickening tension Alistair stood swiftly, and she dropped her hand back into her lap. "Now, if you would please lie down like a good little girl so that Wynne does not have my head on a platter for dinner I would appreciate it." His eyes laughed, and he snapped back into her usual jovial Alistair.

Yawning, Threnody rolled over obligingly and allowed him to pull a light blanket up to her chin. Sleep suddenly seemed a good idea, but she was finding it hard to lie comfortably with her blossoming bruises. Through a heavy eyelid she saw Alistair begin to sneak out towards the hallway.

"Oh, Alistair?"

He turned in the doorway. "Yes?"

"The next time I pass out and you have to carry me, at least have the decency to remove some of that armor, will you? I'm going to be bruised for a week."

A wicked grin split his face. "Oh trust me, dear lady. If I ever remove the armor you will still be getting more than a few bruises. But I am sure that you will enjoy these ones a great deal more." And with an insinuating arch of the eyebrow he strode out towards the hallway, trailing his laughter behind him.


End file.
